The Blind Date Dysfunction
by withered
Summary: It isn't like Stiles has anything against going on a blind date. His history of them sucks, but he's never intentionally ditched one before. But what was he supposed to do, let the kid finish his penis mural? No, sir.


"Of all the dumb stunts you've pulled -"

"But it worked," Stiles interjects, unrepentantly proud of himself despite the unimpressed look his father sent his way.

" _You broke your arm._ "

"'Tis but a scratch -"

"Over graffiti," his dad reminds, pairing his declaration with a deadpan stare that promised the end of any and all joy for the next five to six weeks that he was reminded of the _totally necessary public service_ _done by his only son_ which was frankly _rude._

"It was a crime in progress!"

"The ends do not justify the means."

"To be fair, it hadn't been my intention to break my arm."

His dad mutters, "When is it ever?" to which Stiles pointedly ignored because – while yes, he is to his own peril, accident prone – his father is _rude_ , _Babcia did not raise you like this!_ "But I'm on the force now, things happen!"

From his grumble, Stiles knew he'd won that fight at least.

"You weren't even on _duty_ ," his dad decides on, with no other argument left in his arsenal, to which Stiles shot down to repeat, "It was a crime in progress!"

" _It was graffiti,"_ a voice from the other side of the partition interjects.

"Cool story," Stiles retorts, "still illegal."

"Hey man, it was just a joke!" And really, they put the guy Stiles caught in the bed next to his? Why wasn't the Sheriff reaming that guy's ass for breaking Stiles' arm in the first place?

"Alright, cut it out, or I'm cutting you off," another voice says to the perp from the other side of the partition.

The teenager splutters, "What makes you think you can -"

"Am I, or am I not in charge of your pain meds, kid?"

"Come on, man, I already struck out not getting the hot nurse, that I have to deal with a _male_ _nurse_ is just -"

"If that's how you feel, I'm more than happy to get Erica for you." And Stiles didn't know why, but he felt a shiver go up his spine at the predatory smoothness of the nurse's voice, just as sharp as the smile he was probably throwing the perp's way as he added, "I feel obliged to warn you that she's not actually a nurse, though, she's an orthro-tech, and she can break every bone in your body while naming them. So, what do you prefer, male nurse with the drugs, or the orthro-tech with interesting study habits?"

Wisely, the kid says nothing, though the ensuing silence only invites Stiles' dad to continue, "There was no reason -"

"It was happening, that's reason enough," and Stiles would cross his arms but – yeah, he's not doing that.

The Sheriff sighs. "Well, I'm sure he won't mind rescheduling -" And a part of Stiles is kind of grateful for that because of the little information his dad was willing to reveal about the blind date he'd set Stiles up on, the guy sounded great, and apparently Melissa liked him too so that was always a plus and "- he told me he wasn't going to be able to stick around anyway, had you showed up."

"Sounds like he was prepared for it to go badly," Stiles can't help but note, unable to hide his disappointment, though the glare his dad shoots him shuts him up from further self-deprecation.

"Stiles, you aren't the only dedicated to your job, you know. He got called in to fill someone else's shift."

At that, Stiles can't help but be a little relieved, even if it had been weird enough to wrap his head around _his dad_ trying to set him up, but frankly _anything_ was better than Tinder. No matter how hopeful Scott was about its usage and declarations that _Anyone of them could be the One_ , which was really par the course considering how often Scott found The One.

"But you know," and Stiles knew that perk of his dad's head, had been accused of the same precursor action to _many bad ideas_ just as Stiles points at him in the face in interruption, "Whatever it is – no."

"But you could still salvage the date!"

He'd ditched last minute, giving chase to their local graffiti artist over a _penis mural._ Hell, Stiles didn't even know his blind date's _name_.

Baffled, "How?"

"Well, actually -"

The partition snaps open, the nurse from next door stands, directing a gruff warning at the perp to behave himself before turning to face Stiles and – and – suddenly, all his brain is processing is the tousled just-rolled-out-of-bed dark hair; the well-trimmed stubble that's just begging to leave a significant amount of beard burn on Stiles' _everything_ to the clear muscle definition of his biceps that are definitely trying to pop out of the sleeves of his scrub top, staring him in the face.

Did Stiles just blue screen?

"Mieczylaw Stilinski, I take it?" The nurse confirms, and Stiles isn't sure what's doing it for him – the fact that the nurse could pronounce his abomination of a first name, or that his voice while rough is also strangely higher than expected and softly soothing as a result.

And not just because Stiles is getting premonitions of that voice reciting poetry in his ear while his big hands do many _filthy-no-good-yes-please_ things in perfect symmetry to the contradicting picture the nurse puts out.

Definitely not.

He swallows. "I prefer Stiles, actually, but yeah, that's me."

The nurse nods in acknowledgement. "Sheriff," he greets in turn to Stiles' dad with some embarrassment, though Stiles' dad only smiles and asks, "Derek, what's the damage?"

If Nurse Hotness is surprised by the familiarity Stiles' dad shows him (which Stiles will _most definitely interrogate him about later)_ , he doesn't react except to reply, "The x-ray shows the bone break was clean, no fractures, Erica will be by soon to set the arm." Turning to Stiles, he asks, "How are you feeling?"

And oh god – what kind of fanfiction witchcraft are this man's eyes?

Are they green? Are they grey? Are they gold? Are they blue? Do they have the power to steal Stiles' soul out of his body?

Yes, to all.

Probably.

"Oh, uh great," Stiles finally manages to stutter, "I mean, not great, but not terrible? I mean, I've had worse. Getting shot was definitely worse – not that I'm really comparing the two, this hurts on a different level. But also, not! Like I've broken my arm before when I was a kid, though falling out of a tree was significantly less painful by comparison. It's the first time I've gotten hurt on the job. Not that the gunshot wasn't received on the job, and I mean, I did get it on the job.

But like, most of the time I get hurt just fine on my own without the help of the badge. Not that the badge ever hurt me. Except the time I tried to take it off after work, and I kind of pricked myself? But obviously that was just me being stupid and sleep deprived. Not that I work sleep deprived, just coming home from work which I guess you'd get, being a nurse and all, you probably work long hours too, though I doubt you ever end up hurting yourself with your uniform after you take it off. Not that I'm thinking about you taking your clothes off, though I can kind of be forgiven because _look at you_. Not that I mean to sexually objectify you or anything like that, you must get that a lot, not that frequency equals flattery or anything, just that you're really good looking and – I should shut up, right about…"

His eyebrow cocks in silent judgement, while Stiles trails off into semi-awkward silence, broken only by the Sheriff hiding his laugh behind a cough and a declaration to get coffee as Stiles mumbles, "…now."

"Feel better?" _Derek_ eventually asks, and from the corner of Stiles' eye, he could've sworn the nurse's eyebrow was quirked in amusement, the uptick matching the almost hesitant curve at the corner of his lip.

"Not actually, no," Stiles admits, avoiding the nurse's gaze before pointedly staring wide-eyed at literally anything else as he internally anguished.

To his surprise, Hot Nurse Derek chuckles quietly. "The Sheriff wasn't kidding about your ability to ramble."

Stiles grimaces. That can't be good. "You…uh, know my dad?"

"He's been by a few times," Derek says, and when Stiles visibly stiffens, his eyes go wide. "Oh, god, no, nothing was wrong with him, actually…" It's his turn to trail off and at the pointed glance he sends the nurse's station nearby where his dad is definitely not getting coffee and totally chatting up Melissa, Stiles catches on in a full body sigh of relief.

"Go, Dad."

"Sorry," Derek says and there's an unwilling flush of embarrassment on his cheeks and _Christ, no one should be allowed to be both hot and adorable, that's just not fair on everyone else._ "Didn't mean to worry you."

"No, no it's cool." Stiles waves off. "I'm glad one of us is getting lucky in the dating department."

"Your chances would probably be better if you didn't ditch your dates."

"Hey," he defends, "that was literally the first time I did that!" With the others he'd sat through an hour-long meal in an awkwardness that didn't dissipate and needing to physically shower himself off the anxiety that those dates were all he'd ever get to experience of a love-life. "Although, my dating history isn't exactly anything to write home about. Kind of have a knack for being a placeholder boyfriend, if I'm even referred to as that."

While he knew his disastrous attempts at love with Lydia had only been a distraction on her part, with Jackson which had only been while he was working through his feelings for Danny, and with Ethan which was just a way for him to get over Theo, were not the sum of Stiles' parts as a romantic partner, it still made him pretty wary of dating in general.

"It makes me anxious," he admits with a shrug. "Anyway, I always thought my chances would be a _lot_ better being bi, equal opportunity, and all that, but no dice."

"Yeah, no kidding…"

Stiles blinks. "Uh…you…you too?"

Derek somehow manages to communicate his _Stiles-you're-an-idiot_ look with just his eyebrows which is just as disconcerting as it is to realize that there's a small chance in hell that Stiles would be able to convince _Derek_ to go out with him.

"Well I mean, you shouldn't have a problem! I mean, _look at you_."

He rolls his eyes. "You're acting like you aren't unfairly good looking yourself."

"Well I -" Stiles' mouth opens and closes ineffectually until he's just blurting, "You think I'm good looking?"

There's that blush again and – _goddamn it,_ he knows he's got a ridiculous smile on his face, and the fact that Derek's blush is getting darker, touching his ears isn't helping at all. _He's adorable, and grumpy and I want to hug him._

"Irrelevant."

"Totally relevant," he corrects.

"Not."

"Too."

"Anyway," Derek sighs, "hook up culture isn't exactly my thing, and my relationships haven't been much better."

"I find that a little bit hard to believe…"

He shoots him a slight smirk. "That's surprising considering we're in the same boat."

"What, placeholder-boyfriends?" Stiles asks in open disbelief.

As if. Nurse Derek was the living embodiment of a GQ model that took a turn into med school instead of his intended photoshoot, decided he liked being more than his rocking bod and lickable face, and then went on to find purpose in comforting kids when they got casts. How can anyone not dig that?

"The hours," he reminds. "Kind of hard to lock anything down when you've got to work around an unpredictable schedule."

"Ah…right, that…" It occurs to Stiles suddenly that he didn't even realize that was really going to be a concern. He'd never really gotten further than glorified fuck-buddy.

He nods as if satisfied, right until Stiles asks, "Well, when are you off next?"

Derek blinks. "Are you serious?"

Stiles tries to shrug casually. "I know you're a nurse, I know you're attractive, I know you work crazy hours, I know that you're bi, and I know you're looking for something serious, which bonus – we have all of those in common except for the part about me being a nurse. I've had first dates with less information. And, if you happen to like a guy in uniform, I can totally deliver."

The silence stretches, and Stiles thinks _or not_ with a wince, until finally Derek puts him out of his misery and decides, "As long as you don't ditch me for dick graffiti again."

Which…

Stiles groans. "Oh my god, my dad set me up with you, didn't he?"


End file.
